Silent One
by HobbitEzzie3791
Summary: Five years after the reclaiming of Erebor, King Thorin calls all eligible young dwarf-maidens to Erebor so his nephews can choose brides. The lord of the Grey Mountains sends his daughter, but Fili wonders just who is the silent one who attends her?
1. Prologue

_**So, this is my first story on here, so reviews would be much appreciated. Constructive criticism is fine, but no flames please. Saying something in a story is wrong or bad without any reason as why or suggestion on fixing it is worthless to a writer.**_

* * *

 **Prologue**

Jora, daughter of Lord Halvar and Lady Eda of the Grey Mountains, had always known that she was no normal Dwarf. Most dwarves, male and female alike, had a stocky, short build, grew at least some degree of facial hair, had light to medium skintones, mostly brown or black hair. A few were blonde, a cherished color, of course, red-heads were exceedingly rare. Hence why Lord Dain Ironfoot of the Iron Hills was so renowned for his bright red hair and beard. Also, almost all dwarves had an affinity for mining, gems and gold.

Jora was short, even for dwarven standards. She had always been tiny, her parents said. They found her as an infant, alone in the foothills of the mountains, and never discovered who her parents were. At first, they had assumed her to be a newborn who simply been born early. That accounted for her size, but it not for the differences that appeared as Jora grew up.

Jora never grew stocky or plump like the other dwarflings. She always stayed thin and willowy. Her hair grew in wild, kinky, fiery curls that her mother struggled and fought to tame into traditional dwarven braids. She loved green growing things and their uses. She loved the blue of an open sky, the warmth of the sun, and the way stars and the moon glimmered in the inky black of night. She liked precious metals and gems too, but she liked them for the way the shone and sparkled rather than for their material value. She took little joy in learning to fight like the other children, though she did become quite skilled at throwing knives. While she did not enjoy fighting or sparring, she did always keep at least one throwing blade on her person for self-defense.

At first, Jora was her parent pride and joy. They had two infants already, but Jora was different. She was smart and learned everything put before her very quickly. She learned to read and write early for dwarf child. They were always showing her off to their guests, but as Jora grew up, and Lord Halver and Lady Eda had other children, they began to realise just how different Jora was. She few of the same interests as other dwarflings. And she never spoke. Her little mouth would open to form the words, but no sound ever came out.

Bit by bit, they stopped bring her out at gatherings and feasts. They would have the nursemaids bring out the other children, but Jora would be left behind. Soon, the nobility nearly forgot about young Jora, and her brothers and sister soon nearly forgot Jora was one of them. They began treating her and more like a servant or paid companion, rather than their sister. Their parents, bewildered by their mute daughter, never said a word.

There was whispers among the courtiers that Jora's being mute was a sign of her birth parents being cursed by Mahal, and, of course, rumors that the Lord and Lady would be cursed by association. The lord and lady never had the heart to get get rid of Jora, (they believed that Mahal would bless their generosity of taking her in) but they never treated her the same as the others. But Jora never complained.

Through the years, Lord Halvar and Lady Eda had several children; first was their son and heir Olin, then three years later, came their daughter Elin. Then, six years later, they found Jora. Because dwarflings grew much slower than human children, Olin and Elin were roughly the equivalent of two or three years old and were still far to young to remember that day. Eight years after Jora, came the twin girls, Ama and Ema. Last but not least, twins boys Jordi and Jarni came two years after the twin girls.

Out of all her siblings, Jora was closest to Elin. When Elin was the equivalent of ten years old and Jora was around seven or eight years old, Elin declared to the nursery that Jora was her official companion. It was a common custom among royal and high-ranking noble families to arrange for lower noblemen's daughter to be "companions" for their daughters because girls were so rare among dwarves. These companions would play, learn, and to some degree, serve the daughter they were companion to. They would grow up together in the same room, and have the same tutors. When they grew older, the distinction would grow between them as the companion would ready the daughter for fine parties and such before readying herself. She would have to give the lord's daughter a certain level of deference, and, sometimes, her family would be paid for her services to the lord's daughter. With Elin and Jora, however, they became the best of friends, and Elin never forgot that Jora was her sister. She always stuck up for Jora, though it often was for naught.

Jora occupied the old nurse's bed in Elin's room and soon began taking lessons in reading, writing, basic arithmatic, sewing, embroidery, dancing, deportment and music with her older sister. She also was given duties in helping to care for the younger children so that their parents and Olin and Elin, as the eldest children, would be able enjoy feasts and dances without having to worry about the babies.

So the years passed, and Jora grew to be a willowy, graceful young woman, always small for her age. Her curls grew less frizzy and more defined, but were still as wild as ever as they reached the small of her back. Her eyes were a grey-green and her skin fairer than all of her family's with a faint dusting of freckles across her nose. By all accounts, she was a sweet-tempered, pretty young dwarrowdam, though too slender for most dwarrows' taste and her face stayed free of facial hair. Then, there was the fact that she was mute. Most were too superstitious to want close association with Jora, in spite of her standing as daughter of the Grey Mountains' lord.

Between her duties to Elin and the younger children, Jora soon learned to find solace in books, music and gardens. She loved poetry, any kind of poetry. She did not discriminate; she read both human and dwarven authors, along with a few elvish ones, when they were slipped into an assorted collection. Jora played both the harp and the violin with great skill, and kept one of the best flower and herb gardens in the Grey Mountains.

* * *

Five years passed since the reclaiming of Erebor. Thorin Oakenshield was King Under the Mountain with Fili and Kili as his princes and heirs. Much had been accomplished in that time. The old city had been almost entirely cleared of the dragon's damage and stench, the mines were, shaft by shaft, being reopened and producing great yields, and dwarves from all kingdoms were returning to their home of old. Erebor, in a few short years, was prospering.

With his kingdom doing so well, Thorin's mind turned to other matters, such as his nephews and finding potential mates for them. Thorin was much too set in his ways of confirmed bachelorhood to take a wife, but Fili and Kili were still young dwarrows, and Thorin wanted to see them settled happily ere too long. Especially Fili; as Thorin's heir, it was important that he continue the line of Durin. At the advice of his chief counselor, Balin, Thorin invited all the noble dwarrowdams of marrying age and their families to come to Erebor for Crown Prince Fili's consideration. Of course, Prince Kili was free to choose one of them as well (hint, hint).

Naturally, both princes protested this act of their uncle's, but soon changed their attitudes to reluctant acceptance of the circumstances. At least, they were allowed the luxury of choosing from the prospective brides.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Jora, Jora! Come quickly! Adad and Amad have an announcement to make!" Elin cried excitedly as she burst into the parlor where Jora was overseeing Ama and Ema's sewing lessons. Jora jumped up, her ginger curls bouncing, and let Elin grab her hand and drag her to their father's study. Of course, not wanting to be left out, Ama and Ema quickly followed their older sisters. Elin threw open the heavy oaken door and tugged Jora across the cool stone floor to stand breathless in front of their father's desk.

Lord Halvar was stocky and thickly built, even for a dwarf. He had a barrel-like torso, huge arms, and large hands and feet. His cocoa brown hair and beard were lightly streaked with grey. His beard was forked and braided into two halves with a few side braids woven in. He had low, bushy brows that tended to make him appear cross all the time. He was currently seat at his large oaken desk, considering a scroll of parchment in his hand with his wife standing at his right side.

Lady Eda was a real dwarven beauty. She always had all the right curves in all the right places, even after bearing children. Her hair was a thick, rich, golden color with a lovely she-dwarf beard growing from just below her ears to half way down her jawline. She wore a leaf green velvet gown to match her husband's hunter green tunic, and her hair was piled up in a intricate knot of dozens of little braids.

On Lord Halvar's left stood Olin, who was a copy of his father, except he had his mother's blue eyes where his father had dark brown eyes. He wore a deep red tunic and had several small braids woven in his beard.

At his daughters' noisy entrance, Halvar look up and eyed his daughters up and down. Elin was an an exact copy of his wife when she was a young dwarf-maid; a golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty and sure to catch Prince Fili's attention. Ama and Ema were not old enough to marry, but they were breaking hearts already. They both had light brown hair that shone with gold highlights in the fire or sunlight, and their mother's sky blue eyes. He would have to begin considering suitors for them a few years.

Then, his gaze turned to Jora. She was so differnet from all the others, there was no doubt as to whether or not she was adopted. Her bright red curls haloed her head and fell down her back in a wild mane that still refused to be tamed. Her intelligent grey-green eyes shone out of her round, pale face. She was still as thin as a sapling tree without even a hint of a beard. Some whispered that she was a elf-child abandoned by her parents because she was too small for them to think she would live. Others said she must have been born out of wedlock and was thus cursed beardless by Mahal. Halvar knew Jora was no elf-child; she was too small and did not have pointed ears. He also was not a superstitious dwarf by any means; he highly doubted she in anyway cursed.

The only thing he feared was the people's perception of him if he treated her as his own child. So, he kept the girl at arms length, ensuring she was cared for, but not with same luxury as his other children. Where Elin, Ama, and Ema wore velvets, silks, and fine wools, Jora wore simpler gowns and fabrics. She had one summer silk evening gown and one winter velvet gown in case she had to make an appearance at a feast or banquet, but that was all. Any jewels or hair ornaments she wore besides simple ribbons were borrowed from Elin. A small part of him felt guilty, the part that had always been proud of Jora being the first of his children to read and write, to learn and understand concepts of history, numbers, and science, and held her head up and bore no one any ill-will when the whispers and taunts of the other children at court swirled around her. However, his pride and desire for his people's approval always quickly tapped those feelings down.

"Calm yourselves, my daughters," he began taking in Elin's excited, breathless state. "I have recieved a letter from His Majesty, King Thorin Oakenshield of Erebor."

"King Thorin!" Elin, Ama, and Ema squealed. Jora's eyes grew wide; this certainly was not an everyday occurance.

"Yes, he askes that every daughter-" More shrieks of excitement from the girls. He began again, louder to overcome his daughters. "Every daughter of age who is eligible for marriage-" Groans of disappointment escaped Ama and Ema's lips. "-is invited to come to Erebor for the consideration of Crown Prince Fili and Prince Kili as potential brides."

"Potential brides!" Elin gasped. She turned to her sister. "Oh, Jora! Think of it! One of us could be a princess! Or both of us! The princes are brothers after all, so their taste might run-"

"Don't be getting ahead of yourself, my dear," Lady Eda interrupted. "Jora is hardly princess material," she added coldly.

"But Amad," Elin cried, "Jora has had all of the same lessons as I. She is the daughter of the same lord as I. We are both equally eligible!"

"You are hardly equal, Elin, as you do not share your sister's... _disability_." Eda replied. "and there is more to it than just winning a prince's hand."

"King Thorin has promised valuable trade agreements to the hall from which his nephew's brides come," Halvar explained. "and there is no guarantee Prince Kili will chose anyone; this is mostly for Prince Fili."

"So, it's the crown prince that our sights are set on," Eda said. "Our people need this trade with Erebor."

"You make it all sound so...mercenery, Amad," Elin said frowning. "Will there be many others there?"

"All eligible dwarrowdams of each mountain hall are invited," Halvar replied.

"Wow." Elin looked at Jora whose eyes were huge and full of wonder, excitement, and a little bit of confusion. Visiting Erebor sounded wonderful; Jora had dreamed of going ever since word had reached the Grey Mountains of its reclaiming. She was excited for this oportunity, but if her parent did not think that she was "princess material" why was she summoned to the study?

"Yes, there will be much competition to win the princes' attention," Lady Eda said. She turned to Jora. "Make no mistake, Jora; it is Elin we are sending as a candidate. You will be there to help her in any way possible to win one of the princes, preferably Prince Fili. Do you understand?"

Jora nodded firmly.

"Since I am needed here, I am sending Olin and four gaurds with you three ladies to ensure your safety," Halvar said. "You will leave at the end of the week. I suggest you prepare accordingly."

"Yes, Adad," Elin answered and Jora nodded. "Come, Jora, we must decide which of my gowns will please the prince best!" Elin grabbed Jora's hand again and dragged her all the way back to their room. Once there, Elin closed the door and leaned back against it breathlessly for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry about what Amad said. You are every as capable of being a princess as I am," she said. Jora gently took Elin's hand and led her to the desk where two chairs sat. Jora sat beforena stack a parchment, took up her quill and quickly wrote. _It is alright, Elin. She has never thought of me as her daughter, not really._

"But that doesn't make it right!" Elin replied. "It's all because of that superstitious nonsense that goes around at court. You aren't cursed; you are blessed with a mind far more intellectual than mine. You understand things quicker and better than anyone else."

 _You are sweet, Elin_ , Jora wrote. _You are the only one who sees a gift where all others see a deficiency._

"Well, it's true! You say and write the most beautiful, thought-provoking things," Elin answered. "I think you could win even King Thorin's heart just by writing to him. And we've all heard how stern he is."

Jora's eyes widened at the notion. _Elin!_ she wrote.

"Think about it!" Elin gushed teasingly. "The mystery of not knowing what each other looks like, the lovely, intelligent missives you two will send back and forth, each one longer than the last," Elin clasped her hands together rapturously. "Finally, he will realize he cannot live without you as his queen. He will come here himself, and whisk you off to his mountain to be his bride." Elin gave an exaggerated sigh and look over at Jora who was trembling with silent laughter.

 _Still concocting your ridiculously romantic scenes. It is good that some things never change._

"Oh, I don't think this one is so ridiculous," Elin said. "I mean it would take several months at least, but I think if anyone could woo herself a prince or king by simply writing, it would be you."

 _You always have such faith in me, Elin,_ Jora answered.

"And it certainly is not unfounded, Sister, in spite of what everyone else says," Elin smiled."Come on, let us begin sorting gowns before Amad comes in here and thinks we're plotting to get out of going!"

 _Elin, she would not allow any excuse you could possibly think up._

"Well, if they were not sending you too, I would least try it," Elin said. "I'm going anywhere without you."

 _Of course. No one knows how to arrange your hair like I do,_ Jora smiled teasingly as she wrote.

Elin grinned "Dispite the fact you cannot tame your own locks. But your taste in jewels and accessories to match my gowns is impeccable. Never too much or too little. I have been named one of the gems of many a ball and feast because of you creating my outfits. I only hope that someday soon I'll be able to return the favor."

Jora shook her head _. You do not truly think that Amad will let me attend the banquets and such, do you?_

"Why not?"

 _You forget, I am not going as your sister and equal in this venture. I am going as your companion and maid to ensure your success. Surely, I will not be of status to attend the feasts._

"I will find a way to sneak you in, if I must," Elin declared as she crossed the room her wardrobe and trunk and pulled out a lilac gown. "Now, for our first audience, do think they will like blue or purple?" she asked, holding up the gown to her chest and giving and exaggerated curtesy.

Jora shook her head and silently giggled. Elin always was so bubbly and cheerful. No doubt she could catch a prince's attention. Jora stood and looked in the mirror at the vanity table. She caught the reflection of a skinny girl with wild, red hair and no beard. What chances would she have with the Princes of Durin anyway? What dwarf would wanted a little elf of a wife?

-«·»-

"I can't believe Uncle Thorin!" Kili cried, kicking a rock down the path in frustration.

"Relax, brother; he's not really forcing you into anything," Fili replied. The brothers were out on a hunting trip and were nearing their usual camping place.

"But he is practically forcing _you_ , Fee!" Kili answered. "How could he? After all we've done, surely he could trust us to pick a wife when we're good and ready!"

"And when will that be, Kee?" Fili teased. "When you are grey bearded and too old to go off on adventures?"

Kili shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"And that would he why he is doing this," Fili said. "I think Uncle just wants to see us happy and settled, you know? And in my case," he added with a sigh. "he wants to know that I have my own heir to carry on the line of Durin."

"I still think he should let you pick a girl in your own good time," Kili replied stubbornly. "And the fact that he's only invited nobles isn't promising."

"Kili!"

"What? Don't you remember your coming of age party? Those were all the most empty-headed, simpering little things I've ever met in my life!"

Fili winced at the memory of being surrounded by fauning, eyelash-batting females. "I know, Kee, but that was just Ered Luin. Uncle has invited from all of the mountain halls. Some of them have to be different."

"For the sake of our sanity, I certainly hope so," Kili mutter darkly.

* * *

 _ **If you had trouble telling, all of Jora's written or thought dialogue will be in italic so you can differentiate it from regular spoken dialogue.**_


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The trek from the Grey Mountains to Erebor passed uneventfully. At least, no orcs or goblins attached the caravan carrying Lady Eda and her three eldest to the Lonely Mountain. Though unaccustomed to sleeping on the ground with a canvas tent as the only shelter available, Elin quickly adjusted as best she could to the less than hospitable conditions. Olin, who had been on many hunting trips with his father, was quite used to sleeping under the stars and cooking over an open fire. However, Lady Eda was another story entirely.

Lady Eda never missed an opportunity to bemoan her wilderness circumstances. Every night, her two personal maids had to massage her weary, aching muscles from riding in a cushioned wagon all day. She wanted to bathe every night and every morning, but her sensible maids squashed that idea quickly, though it only gave their lady something else to complain about.

"Oh, how I ache!" she cried one night as they neared their destination. "I hope you children understand what a sacrifice it is for me to take you to Erebor and what a generous mother I am for allowing you to make this journey."

Jora's eyebrows shot up. It was her impression that they had basically been ordered by their parents to make the trek half-way across Middle Earth to Erebor. She shared a look with Elin and Olin, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Elin shrugged and dutifully gave her mother the answer she wanted to hear, Jora and Olin nodding in agreement.

A week later, they were within sight of the Lonely Mountain. It's craggy, grey peak proudly standing out against the blue sky took Jora's breath away with its rugged, ancient beauty. They camped near the outskirts of Dale so they could reach the mountain by mid-morning the next day. Lady Eda spent an hour that evening planning what she, Elin, and Olin would wear in the morning for their entrance into Erebor, then another hour and a half choosing what they would wear for their first audience with King Thorin, which would be later in the afternoon.

"Mother, can't this wait till tomorrow?" Elin yawned. "We will have plenty of time to coordinate outfits before we pay our respect to King Thorin. We're all exhausted, and I'm sure the maids don't want to unpack all the trunks tonight."

"Elin!" her mother cried. "You of all people should be most concerned with this! Your first impression on Their Majesties will mean everything! If you don't catch one of the princes' eye right away, you might never get the chance to truly vie for their attention!"

"Mother! First impressions can be very misleading," Elin countered. "Remember Siri, Lord Evik's daughter? I absolutely hated her at first because I thought she was snobbish. I thought she would hardly talk to me because she thought highly of herself, but it turned out she was just really shy! Now, we're great friends, and I hope to see her here."

"Don't say things like that, Elin! The fewer rivals you have the better, and she has always been counted as quite the beauty with her green eyes," Lady Eda replied. "Personally, I never saw much beauty in her; she has common brown hair and a rather unremarkable figure."

"But she is one of the sweetest little gems you'll ever meet, Mother!" Elin said. "She'd give you her favorite gown sash or the last of her favorite treat, if she thought you wanted it, and never bat an eye or show any regret over it. She always knows how cheer you up; always knows the perfect thing to say. The only person more sweet and thoughtful in the world is our own Jora."

"Now, see here!" Lady Eda replied. "We don't need you going around singing your rivals' praises! They are your rivals, right now, Elin. Not your friends."

"But Mother! I'm certainly not going to ignore my friends simply because we have a common goal! Besides, most of my friends are from the Grey Mountains. It doesn't matter which one of us gets a prince, the Grey Mountains will still get the trade agreement."

"How could you say it does not matter?" Lady Eda gasped, clutching her chest in astonishment. Olin shook his head, and Jora rolled her eyes at her mother's theatrics. "Of course it matters!" their mother continued. "The prestige of a personal connection with the line of Durin for our family is of great importance, Elin! Not to mention the wealth it will bring, for even princes like Fili and Kili are not exempt from paying a bride price."

Elin glanced at Jora, then cocked her head, eying her mother suspiciously. "I thought this was about a good trade agreement with Erebor, since clearly you do not intend to let me wed for love. I still wish to find my One."

"When will you put such nonsense out of your head, lass?" her mother sighed. "We are of high noble birth; you do what is good for your family and your people. Not what suits you."

Jora's eyes widened. It was nigh on blasphemy to deny the One Mahal had created especially for each dwarrow! Marrying someone else was like telling the Great Maker that his plan for you was wrong. Mahal's will was never wrong; when he created each dwarrow's other half, it was always perfect! How could it be anything else?

Elin was clearly as surprised and taken back as Jora was. "But Mother!" she sputtered, but her mother cut her protest off.

"Elin, it's late; I will not discuss this any further tonight." Elin could tell when a subject was closed, so she quietly rose and disappeared into the tent. Jora quickly followed her, finding her curled up on her bedroll, quietly crying. Jora sat near her and gently pulled her head into her lap. She began combing her fingers through her sister's golden tresses until Elin fell asleep.

-·-

Fili and Kili wearily tumbled into bed that night. Besides their normal duties, they had been dealing the increasing hoard of young dwarrowdams (and a few not so young) trailing after them all over the mountain for the last month. They could only get away from them if they were council meetings, helping to clear out the old mine shafts, or out hunting.

"If I have be polite to one more fawning, scheming dam, I think I'm going to lose it," Kili huffed dramatically from his bed.

"Lose what, Brother?" Fili asked, looking over at Kili.

"My sanity!" the younger dwarrow cried.

"Kee, I'm pretty sure you lost that years ago," Fili teased. He was rewarded with a pillow thrown across the room and into his face. "You know what, I take that back."

"Good."

"Were you ever sane?"

"Hey!" Kili shot up and threw another pillow at Fili, beginning a short-lived pillow fight that ended when Fili trapped Kili in a strangle hold. "Seriously, Fee?"

"Seriously," he answered. "Truce?"

"Truce," Kili nodded and Fili released him. "We Durins have to have to stick together against the common enemy."

* * *

 _ **Thoughts?**_

 _ **Aranel Mereneth: Thank you so much for your review! I hope you continue to enjoy my story.**_

 _ **In your service, Ezzie**_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The Grey Mountains troupe reached Erebor by mid-morning. Olin showed the guards at the gates the letter bearing King Thorin's seal. Jora gulped as they entered mountain. The entrance hall was many times bigger than the one in Lord Halvar's mountain hall. Onyx columns lined the way to the rest of the mountain. Dwarrow were everywhere. Jora fiddled nervously with folds in her simple blue linen grown, and Elin intertwined her arm with her sisters as other dwarrow watched them.

"Let Jora go!" Lady Eda hissed to her daughter. "As long as we are here, she's not your sister, but your servant." Reluctantly, Elin obeyed, and Jora dutifully fell a few steps behind her sister.

Just then, an older dwarrow in a fine burgundy tunic came forward. His long white beard was unplaited, but styled to fork at the bottom. His short hair stood up in spikes. He had a warm, kind face and genuine smile.

"Welcome, my lord and ladies, to Erebor. I am Balin, son of Fundin, at your service," he bowed to Lady Eda, who curtsied and answered similarly, then introduced Olin and Elin. "And who might this charming young lady be?" he asked, turning a friendly smile to Jora, who was not behind the wagon with the other servants.

"My daughter's personal maid," Lady Eda answered in a disinterested tone. Jora quickly dropped into a graceful curtsy.

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "Well, tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss...?"

"Her name's Jora," Elin supplied. Jora met the kind Lord Balin's eyes briefly before lowering them to the floor. Oh yes, she knew exactly who this was: Lord Balin, King Thorin's chief advisor who went on the quest to reclaim Erebor! He was a hero and a dwarrow of great influence.

"Well, I suppose you'd like to be shown your rooms so you can freshen up before meeting their Majesties, hmm?"

"Oh, yes, please!" Elin answered. "A real bath would be ever so lovely."

"Elin!" Lady Eda gasped, then turned to Lord Balin. "We would be most grateful, my lord."

Balin offered Lady Eda his arm, according to custom. "Right this way, my lady." Elin immediately grabbed Jora's hand and dragged her along with them. Jora, with a look of silent protest, tried to free her hand, but Elin did not let go.

"Someone has to tell the others where our rooms are, right?" Elin whispered with a grin as she linked arms with Jora once more.

-{¤}-{¤}-{¤}-

"No, Elin! It is out of the question! She's here as your servant!"

"If Jora does not go, the I will not come."

Olin, who had changed into his second-best tunic and trousers, and Jora watched from across the room as Lady Eda and Elin argued. Elin was adamant on Jora coming to meet the king and princes, but Lady Eda refused on the grounds that Jora was supposed to be servant, and she did not want the royal family to think Jora was a candidate.

"Mother, if these prince are as picky about their potential mate as you say they are, and if Jora is truly not 'princess material' as you say she is, then what have to fear? They'll pass her off as a common lady's companion and not give her a second glance," Elin argued.

"She makes a true point, Mother," Olin shrugged.

"Oh, very well!" Lady Eda threw up her hands. "Go put a nicer dress on Jora. And for Mahal's sake cover up that wild hair of yours!" She stomped into the sitting room to wait, her blue silk gown rustling angrily as she swept out of the room.

Elin whirled around, practically squealing with joy.

"I think I'll go join Mother," Olin mumbled and quickly left.

"Oh, which one will you wear?" Elin dashed over to her wardrobe and began searching through gowns. "The pink? No that one will clash with your hair...oh, yes! The pale blue will contrast lovely with your complexion..."

Jora tapped her shoulder and handed her a note, stopping Elin in her tracts.

 _"I cannot wear one of your gowns, Elin. I will look like your equal rather than your maid. I'll wear one of mine."_

"But Jora, this could be your one chance. See, if they see you, and like you, they might ask after you! Then Mother could not refuse to send to the balls and banquets!"

Jora shook her head. _"I am not a candidate, Sister. I... I am...deficient."_

"Deficient?!" Elin gasped, hand press to her heart. "How in Mahal's name are you deficient?"

 _"I am a nobody."_

"Jora..."

 _"And I cannot speak. You know it is seen as either a curse of Mahal or a sign that I am of a weak, slow mind. The king and his princes, high and noble though they may be, will not see me any differently than anyone else."_

"But they might not!"

 _"It does not matter. I will wear my fawn-colored dress; it is quite fine enough for a maid to wear. I will gather my hair into one of my snoods and cover it with a kerchief."_

"Very well, Jora," Elin sighed. "but I am still going to find a way to get into at least one ball."

 _"If there is a way, you will surely find it, Sister."_


	5. Chapter 4

Thorin Oakenshield was beginning to wonder what he had been thinking in inviting all eligible young dwarrowdams and their families to Erebor. Female children were rarer than males, so he did not think their would be nearly this many! He had to extend his court time and devote a least an hour a day to greet the emissaries coming to pay their respects and show case their daughters.

That day was no different. He greeted each family with grace and dignity befitting his role as king. As he waited for the next group to approach, he glanced over the long line with a nearly imperceptible sigh.

Fili looked over the crowd of dwarrows before with sinking feeling. But he plastered a small polite smile. It was his duty to greet his guests. As he scanned the crowd, one dam caught his eye.

She stood near the middle of the line, and seemed to trying to keep her head down and take in the splendor of the throne room at the same time. She was too far away for Fili to discern her coloring except she was unusually fair-complected for a dwarrow. The thing that caught his eye, though, was the fact that she wore a kerchief of undyed linen, completely covering her hair. How strange. So far, all of of the young ladies he had met had their hair styled to show off its color or texture. This maiden had her head covered as if she were ashamed of her hair. That should not be; her was the crowning glory of a dam. His amad had told him so. So why did she hide hers?

Half an hour later, the mystery girl's family approached. The mother, Lady Eda of the Grey Mountains, swept into a curtsy, her golden hair daughter following suit. Her eldest, Lord Olin, bowed low and respectfully. The girl in the kerchief stayed at the back of the group and never rose from where she humbly knelt on the stone floor, her head bowed and eyes downcast.

Now he could see more of her than just her head, he was even more surprised at her. She was as thin and willowy as a daughter of men or maybe an elf, but was petite even by dwarrow standards. Her gown was simple, with almost no ornamentation, and made from a good quality homespun, unlike the silk the other women wore.

"This is my daughter, Elin," Lady Eda said proudly, motioning to the young blonde beauty.

"Your Majesties," the girl murmured as she sank into another curtsy.

"A jewel her father's crown, I am sure," Thorin replied diplomatically.

"Indeed," Fili commented as he and Kili inclined their heads to the dwarrowdams.

"Thank you, my king and prince!" Lady Eda simpered. Lady Elin smile shyly at her monarch's praise. They bowed to take their leave, but Fili realized Lady Eda had not introduced the other girl. If she was here, surely she too was Lady Eda's daughter. Why would a mother so overlook her child?

"My lady, you have to introduce this young lady to us," he said, nodding to the girl who was finally rising from her place on the cold stone floor.

"She is no one of import, your Highness," Lady Eda smoothly answered. "She is merely my daughter's maid."

Thorin raised an eyebrow. Noble usually did not bring their servant with them to greet their king.

"She has been my constant companion since my infancy," Elin quickly explained. "I could not bear to leave her behind and not share the glorious experience of meeting the great King Under The Mountain with her. She is...like a sister to me."

"You could have told her of it later," Thorin said.

"Yes, your Majesty, I could, but I am not gifted with words enough to have ever done it justice," Elin answered.

""Elin!" Lady Eda huffed "You have wasted enough of His Majesty's time."

"I would met this one," Fili spoke up. "She has come just as far and has waited just as long as all the others. It is fit that we afford her the same greeting as anyone else."

The girl froze and looked to her lady. "Go on!" Lady Eda hissed. The girl hesitantly stepped forward. Her eyes flashed up to meet Fili's for a brief moment, giving him a fleeting glimpse of beautiful green before her eyes lowered once more. As gracefully as any lord's daughter, the "maid" sank into a deep curtsy and remained kneeling there.

"My companion, Jora, Your Highness," Elin quickly introduced before her mother could.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Jora," Fili smiled down at clearly frightened girl.

"Indeed," Kili grinned. She did not fawn over them so many of the others. The girl raised her eyes and her gaze flickered to each prince for a moment before a small smile stole over her blushing features. She bowed her head once more before rising and returning her place behind her family without a glance back.

"Jora...hmm..."

Fili turned to Thorin to find him deep in thought. "What is it, Uncle?" he asked.

"I am certain I have heard the name Jora before, but it was not the name of a maid..."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, it is nothing to be concerned about," Thorin dismissed, motioning the next family to approach.

For the rest of the afternoon, Fili outwardly gave all the appropriate greetings, but inwardly, his mind kept straying after the tiny,willowy maid who covered her hair with a kerchief.


End file.
